


when I'm feeling alone, you remind me of home

by theragingstorm



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Family, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Holidays, Introspection, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theragingstorm/pseuds/theragingstorm
Summary: Two months after the Enchanted Forest reopens, Anna spends her first holiday season as queen.
Relationships: Anna & Elsa (Disney), Anna & Olaf (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa & Kristoff (Disney), Everyone & Everyone
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	when I'm feeling alone, you remind me of home

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. After literal years, I've written Frozen fic again. And you know what? It's good to be back. 
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's "Christmas Tree Farm." I also suggest you listen to Idina Menzel's holiday albums, which is what I did while writing this.

The last few months had been their family’s and their kingdom’s most eventful time in three years. It still didn’t seem quite real, that everything had changed again, that they had been splintered apart again...only to be set into this new shape. This new shape that they were all still getting used to, trying to see the good in the midst of all this transition.

Anna sat back in her chair, leaning all the way from her desk so that she could see out the window. 

Snow had fallen in thick drifts over her kingdom. Where it hadn’t been cleared away, it came up to the average person’s waist, heavy drifts of soft white that sparkled under the moon and the barely-there sun; occasionally shimmering with blue, green, and pink under the glow of the aurora borealis. Buttery yellow light shone from every window in town, the light of a thousand fires in a thousand fireplaces. Though it was technically only late afternoon, the sun had already set, casting the buildings and the land into deep blue night. Under the golden glow of streetlamps, local children who’d managed to escape from school played on the cobblestoned streets, skidding on the glistening ice, flinging snow at each other despite their mothers’ protests. 

Anna groaned and dropped her head back down on the desk, almost upsetting her ink bottle. All  _ she _ had to look forward to right then was paperwork.

Her official coronation wasn’t until early spring, when the ice would clear and the winter storms would cease and allow the diplomats’ and royals’ ships safe passage to Arendelle. But her sister had stepped down, so for all intents and purposes, she was now the queen. 

Queen.  _ She _ was the queen. It was hard to believe. 

“What makes me qualified to be queen?” she muttered, tapping the tip of her quill pen against her nose, forgetting that it was still full of ink -- and thus splattering her face with black. “Shit! Dammit!”

Wiping her face with a handkerchief really only served to smear the ink. Now she looked like she’d been cleaning chimneys, or like she was halfway through turning into a deranged panda. 

“Fuck it. Let’s lean into this.”

Her face still covered in ink, Anna quickly scribbled her signature onto the last of the paperwork, adding it to the massive stack on the side of her desk, then letting out a long breath and thrusting her hands into the air. She was so excited to finally be done that her knees jostled the desk and sent the neat stack of paper careening to the floor. 

At least now her desk was clear.

_ Elsa’s _ desk.

As she got up, finally free from the hours of writing that had been making her hand and wrist cramp up, she rested the tips of her fingers against the spruce-wood. The edge had been carved with a pretty, intricate  _ rosemåling _ design, even though the top had suffered a thousand stains and marks. Pen scratches, rings from hot mugs, rings from cold glasses, spills of ink, coffee, and what looked and smelled suspiciously like  _ brennivín _ . Three years of doing so much work at it had taken its toll on the poor desk. 

Anna gave the top of it a small pat, before careening out of the queen’s study. 

Outside the muffled quiet of the study, the castle was a hub of activity. Every maid and valet seemed busy toting around cleaning supplies and decorations, the whole place smelling of roast meat and spices and wine, sprigs of holly and evergreen on every place possible, everyone shouting to each other and scolding each other for something or another. Someone had tied holly to the suits of armor lining the halls so it looked like they were wearing bow ties, someone else had festooned everything with gold baubles, and someone else had wound the banisters with red and green silk ribbons fringed with golden cloth.

It was all so gaudy and chaotic. Anna loved it.

“Your Majesty,” one of the maids mumbled from behind an armful of tablecloths. It took Anna a second to realize that she was talking to her. 

“Yeah -- um, I mean, yes, Linnea?”

Linnea managed to look at her around the tablecloths, her eyes cast down respectfully. 

“Gerda wanted me to tell you that the ballroom is currently being prepared for the Yule Ball, ma’am.”

“Oh, that’s not till the twenty-fourth, next week.” Anna shook her head fondly. “I didn’t even think of that yet...everyone’s a step ahead of me, as usual.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, ma’am. I’m certain you’re the one who’s a step ahead of everyone.”

Anna was taken aback, and rather unbelieving. Linnea was a nice girl, always had been. That had to be it. Nothing more. There was no way Anna was  _ actually _ that good. 

But even so, there was no way she was going to be rude and dismissive towards her staff because of her own self-doubts. Especially not when this was the most staff the castle’d had since she was a little girl; she was all too grateful for the presence of people around her.

“Thanks.” She paused. “Hey, you guys don’t need to work yourselves so hard. The castle looks great already. You make sure Gerda and Kai tell everyone else that; I don’t want them keeping you from your families at Christmastime.”

Linnea beamed and attempted to curtsey, almost dropping her linens, blushing.

“Sure, Your Majesty.”

The girl scampered off, her face red, and Anna felt a genuine smile grow across her face. With luck, Linnea would be able to visit her father and siblings; there was no way she was going to keep her from them. Family should be together, she thought. 

She then moved through the hallways, making sure nobody was looking before she darted to the staircase, leaping up and sliding down the banister. Three feet from the bottom, she leapt off again, landing neatly on her feet; bowing to an unseen audience.

“Thank you. Thank you. I’m here all week.”

“Well, yeah, you live here.”

She jumped. 

Sure enough, inside the nearest suit of armor, a carrot and a glint of snow were poking out of the front of the helmet. Most of him was withdrawn into the armor, but the majority of his face was still visible, which he clearly thought was good enough to effectively hide him.

Anna cupped her chin, pretending to think.

“Well, I can  _ hear  _ Olaf…but I don’t  _ see  _ Olaf.”

The suit of armor with the disembodied face giggled.

“Wow. I wonder where he could be hiding.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll never know.”

The helmet went flying and almost careened into the head of one of the valets, who screamed and went running. 

Olaf’s entire upper body came out of what had been the neck of the armor; he was grinning excitedly.

“I’m here, Anna! I was here this whole time!” He suddenly turned serious. “No wonder you’re so bad at hide-and-seek.”

“Oh,  _ there _ you are. And hey, I’m not  _ that _ bad.” She managed to pull every part of him out of the armor, setting him down onto the floor. “So what’s up? Kristoff and Sven back from seeing the trolls yet?”

“Not yet,” Olaf replied without hesitation. Her heart abruptly sank. “They’re probably asking him lots of funny questions again, like whether they can go to the wedding or why none of you guys, including him, seem to like yourselves very much.” He scratched his twig-hair. “Did you know you have ink on your face?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” She scrubbed at her face with the handkerchief again, suspecting that this was just making it worse again. “Hey, do you want to go to the kitchen? There should be some hot cocoa left from this morning.”

“I can’t eat. Or drink.” He paused. “I do like to throw it through myself, though.”

“Whoa, gross, that is...horrifyingly phrased.” Anna didn’t know whether to cringe or laugh. “C’mon.”

She took his twig hand; not having to lead him far. The kitchen was relatively unoccupied, as dinner wasn’t for hours, so Anna took a cloth and scrubbed her face with hot water and soap at the sink that someone had been peeling carrots in. When she turned around again, Olaf had thrown three cups of hot cocoa through his torso, leaving a pile of chocolatey slush on the floor behind him. Her snort and giggle at this was probably the dictionary-defined opposite of queenlike; she felt slightly ashamed at herself. 

“Your Majesty.” One of the head cooks gave Olaf the side-eye, which he was happily oblivious to. “Will we be having any guests for dinner tonight?”

Anna took a mug of hot cocoa, her spirits dashed further. 

No, no guests. Kristoff had been gone visiting his family for almost three days straight and she had no idea when he’d return; Elsa hadn’t been back for a visit in two weeks. Right now, none of the other gentry wanted to hold court, and there were no visiting diplomats or leaders to talk with. Even her council of advisors didn’t have much to say to her other than to express their hopes that the kingdom’s stores would last through the long winter, and she had no idea how to handle the demands they were already placing on her. 

“No, Gunilla. Probably just me for dinner tonight.”

“And me,” Olaf said helpfully, “but I don’t eat.” 

Gunilla offered no emotional reaction, just a small nod. Anna resisted the urge to sigh, an odd and deeply unpleasant feeling having come over her, one of disconnection from everyone else in Arendelle.

_ Maybe I can have General Mattias and Halima over for dinner, _ she thought.  _ Then: No, they only just rediscovered each other two months ago. They probably just want to see each other. I’d feel awful if I ended up bothering them.  _

“Well, if your snowman is done making a mess on my floor, Your Majesty.” A few of the kitchen girls had gathered around Olaf by now, and he was enthusiastically greeting each one as they chirped excitedly over him like he was a puppy or a small child. 

Anna moved over to them with her cocoa, and they all began greeting her happily too. She smiled.

“Hi, Solveg. How’s your mother doing, she’s better, right? Åshild, you look wonderful, your new haircut really suits you! Katja, I’m glad to see you back from your honeymoon, how was it? Ooh, Tove, is your baby walking yet? Hekla, your necklace is gorgeous, where did you get it?”

The girls curtseyed deeply, but still twittered eagerly with her, answering all her questions, still fussing over Olaf, combing his twigs or readjusting his carrot, making him giggle. 

Only a couple minutes went by before Gunilla ruined it.

“Hey! Why are you bothering the queen with your nonsense?” she barked. “She has no time for you! Get back to work!”

“But she asked --” Tove started to protest.

“I said back to work!”

The girls reluctantly withdrew, most retreating to cut more vegetables or tend the roast in the oven; Solveg going to fetch a mop, curtseying to Anna on the way. Anna glowered at Gunilla’s back, resisting the urge to snap or yell and embarrass herself further.

Once she and Olaf were out of the kitchen, Anna threw her head back and groaned, long and loud. She held it for almost a solid half-minute, the entire time of which Olaf stared up at her quizzically.

“I’m going to take a wild, crazy guess and say that...you’re angry again.”

“Yes! Good guess!” She threw her hands up. “I am angry. I’m angry because I’m lonely and I hate it!”

“You’re lonely?”

“Yes! Everyone else is gone! They all have things to do everywhere else, and people to see everywhere else, but me, I have to stay here! And my people…” She blinked hard. “All I want is to take care of them, but I have to stay here in order to govern everything, I can hardly see them. All I want is to see my family, but they get to leave, they get to see other people and have other duties and I guess I come second to that and I get it, they don’t need to be around me all the time and I don’t want to overwhelm them again…” She scrubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. “I’ve only been doing this for two months, but it’s  _ hard _ . Being queen is so hard, and so lonely. Even Elsa couldn’t do this forever.”

Olaf looked sad now, and she felt a stab of guilt for unloading all her problems on him when he’d been so cheerful before. He shuffled in place, folding his twig-hands together. 

“At least you have me,” he offered after a minute.

Anna sniffled, then bent and picked up the snowman, holding him like a baby. 

“That’s true. I do.”

He wrapped his arms around her neck, making her smile a little even through her tears. 

“Do you wanna do something fun together?” he suggested. “Ooh, we could have a snowball fight. Ooh, we could play a game. Ooh, we could go to the library and get out the philosophy books and think about the meaning of life.”

“I actually have to go outside and check on the horses, since the stable workers haven’t gotten back to me on what condition they’re in yet, so we could go do that together.”

“Pet the horses! Sounds good!”

Anna quickly retrieved her warmest cloak before they stepped outside into the courtyard; bracing herself. It did no good, the chill of midwinter immediately pierced her to the bone, even through her warm clothes. She shivered, drawing her cloak tighter around herself, trying to pull her hood up over her numb ears, glancing up at the soft silver-white moon, the glittering stars sprinkled across the dark sky like sugar dust. Around her, the thick snow kept sparkling, almost like each individual crystal was offering her a wink.

“Hey, Anna? Did you know that horses have the biggest eyes of any land mammals?”

“No, I didn’t.” She blew on her fingers, trying to warm them up. The cold was bitter, miserable, it was harder than ever right then to see the beauty in it. 

“Did you know horses’ teeth take up more space in their heads than their brains? Do you know they can’t throw up? Did you know they make ten gallons of spit a day? Did you know their hearts usually weigh about nine or ten pounds? Did you know that there’s a couple of them coming at the gates right now along with some reindeer and a whole lot of people?”

“Wait, what?”

Anna’s head snapped up.

Olaf was right. Through the gates, standing out against the sparkling white and silver of the kingdom streets, under the golden glow of the streetlights and windows, were a massive group of human and animal silhouettes. A man on horseback, a man and two women in a reindeer-drawn sleigh, an individual man in a reindeer-drawn sleigh, and a woman on horseback, their animals heading right towards the castle’s open gates. But there was something off about the woman’s horse. The light cast and bent right through the animal’s form, slanting and shifting into blue streams of light...as if it were made of water.

Anna’s heart leapt into her throat. 

“Olaf, do they look familiar to you?”

“Should they?” He peered at them again, then started bouncing in place. “Oh, oh oh! They should! They should!”

The water horse, the Nøkk, stepped right under a streetlight, and only a block away, everyone in the entourage was cast in a glow. So close, Anna could pick out each of their faces, and the joyful smiles cast upon them. 

“It’s Elsa! And Kristoff, and Sven!” Olaf enthused.

Her sister’s mount huffed and tossed his head. Under the light, his form rippled, and Elsa’s sheer, silvery dress sparkled like the snow, brighter than the stars, looking like she was wearing the season itself. Her long white-blonde hair lifted slightly on the cold wind, and her eyes were crinkled with joy and affection. Not five feet from her, Sven snorted eagerly and pulled harder at Kristoff’s sleigh, making the runners glide easily along the icy cobblestones. Kristoff himself clicked the reins, his leather and furs covered in a thin layer of snow powder, which did nothing to diminish the warmth of his smile, straightening up excitedly as he came closer to the castle. The people of Arendelle began coming out of their homes and staring through their windows, children squealing excitedly, adults gaping in shock or awe.

“And all those other guys we met in the Forest whose names I don’t remember!”

Lieutenant -- General, now -- Mattias was atop his cantering stallion, and unlike the others, he clearly hadn’t traveled further than just across the city, as his cloak had no snow on it and his green wool clothes were pristine. His curly gray hair was trimmed, and his expression softened as he approached the castle. In the other sleigh, Yelana, the leader of the Northuldra herself, was wearing new furs and had her long white hair carefully braided, her expression cool and imperious as she firmly held the reins. Next to her, the Nattura siblings, Kristoff’s and Elsa’s friends, Ryder and Honeymaren, were wearing polar opposite expressions of awe and delight as they stared around them at the kingdom, gazing towards the castle. 

Several people looked uncomfortable at the presence of the Northuldra, a few men glowering, women whimpering and crossing themselves. But the majority looked either looked indifferent or intrigued by the strangers instead of angry or upset, moving a little closer to the sleigh, murmuring welcomes to Yelana and the Nattura siblings. 

At the head, Elsa abruptly pulled the Nøkk to a halt. The entire entourage followed suit, allowing more Arendellians to gather, to gaze in astonishment at their former queen, at the odd gathering in their midst. 

Anna stared in rapture. 

“Qu -- Princess Elsa,” someone said tentatively, looking at Yelana and the two siblings, “who are these people?”

“These are my family’s guests.” Elsa’s voice rang out, as clear as if she were standing next to Anna. “Yelana is the leader of the Northuldra of the Enchanted Forest, and the Nattura siblings are part of her clan; they are the people of the sun, my mother’s people. My sister and I will expect them to be treated with the  _ utmost _ respect while they are here.”

Next to her, Kristoff nodded. Honeymaren’s and Ryder’s spines straightened with pride. 

“That’s all for now. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday.”

The next few moments were a blur. Sven and the Nøkk jumped into canters again just as Anna started into a run, her fiancé and sister just through the gates when they began to dismount. The second their feet touched the stones, Anna leapt forward into their arms. 

Elsa’s cool smooth ice-dress and Kristoff’s rough warm furs enveloped her; she buried herself in the embrace of the two people she loved most. She choked slightly, a small sob escaping her. 

“It seems you two’s note didn’t get to her soon enough,” came Mattias’ voice from somewhere nearby. “Yelana, you should tell your wind spirit that she’s getting lazy.”

The wind around them whistled, fluttering Anna’s cloak with Gale’s obvious offense at that statement.

“She’s not  _ my _ wind spirit,” Yelana retorted, but with no real heat. “The spirits don’t  _ belong _ to anyone. They’re wild, autonomous beings, and their ways are mysterious.”

All of a sudden, a small, overly warm part of Elsa’s arm seemed to wiggle. The three of them pulled apart, and as they did, a tiny blue salamander head poked his way out of the shoulder of her dress.

“How,” were the first words out of Kristoff’s mouth, “did you carry a fire spirit in your _ dress _ for that entire journey?”

“It wasn’t for the entire journey,” Elsa protested. “Bruni just got cuddly sometime in the last couple hours.”

Bruni squeaked and nestled his head against Elsa’s bare shoulder, getting partially lost in her hair. 

“My next question, if he was in your dress for a couple hours while you were jostling around on horseback, how the hell did you keep him from falling in your --”

Anna’s next sob cut them both off. They both stared at her, odd expressions on their face. 

“Anna, I’m sorry,” Kristoff blurted. “If it’s that upsetting, I’ll stop talking about your sister’s dress right now.”

“It’s not that.” She wiped her nose on her cloak. “I just...missed you guys so much. Everyone goes by so slowly without you.”

Sven lowed and nudged his nose under Kristoff’s arm, nuzzling Anna’s hands. Olaf waddled over and threw his stick arms around Elsa’s waist (because that was the highest part of her he could reach).

“And I can’t believe everyone’s here, and I’m so happy to see you all, and here I thought I was gonna have to wait even longer to see --” She turned and faced their guests. The Nattura siblings were clambering from their sleigh as Mattias dismounted from his horse, he and Honeymaren doing it with ease, Ryder getting his foot caught on the side of the sleigh and almost falling on his face. Yelana hadn’t moved, but her expression had distinctly softened. “Oh my God, you guys are my guests, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you! You have to come in, it’s miserable out here! Get by a fire, have some food, have something to drink -- um, we’ve got tea, coffee, cocoa, or do you want something stronger --?”

“Food and a drink would be well met, Your Majesty,” Mattias interrupted gently. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a fire, though,” Ryder piped up, trying to pull his boot back into place. “We got caught in like, two snowstorms on the way here, none of which were caused by Elsa.”

“Oh Jesus.” Anna wiped away the last of her tears, mustering a genuine smile. “Definitely everyone come in, then.”

“Gladly,” Yelana huffed, wrapping her furs around her as she finally descended from the sleigh. Footmen, drawn in by the noise in the courtyard, began unhitching and untacking, leading Yelana’s and Mattias’ animals towards the stables. When they approached the Nøkk, however, he snorted and whinnied with a  _ great _ amount of disgust, turning on his hoof and galloping out of the courtyard towards the pier, over to a hole in the ice, dissolving back into water and plunging into the fjord. 

Elsa laughed softly, turning apologetically to the bemused footmen.

“I’m sorry. He doesn’t like being inside  _ any _ buildings, much less stables.”

“Sven does,” Kristoff added, taking his reindeer by the harness, “but he’s still coming with me.”

Sven grunted in agreement.

“We’ve been taking him inside the castle for years,” Olaf agreed. “Which I’m sure is definitely sanitary.”

They kept chattering as they all moved out of the courtyard and into the castle, Gale’s breeze whistling gently, making their clothes flutter, and Anna let it all wash over her. The castle, already bustling, became a thousand times noisier as they stepped inside, the staff seeing their royalty and, by extension, their royalty’s guests; they were all but bum-rushed as they gathered in the foyer. Having their winter cloaks and hats and gloves whisked away, being offered hot water bottles and glasses of aquavit, having a dozen people bowing and asking how they were, did they need anything. Mattias seemed to take it all fairly well, but all three Northuldra looked more than a little overwhelmed; Yelana’s shoulders stiffened again while Honeymaren swallowed, her eyes very wide, and while Ryder babbled nervously that he didn’t need anything except a couch in front of a fire and maybe a storyteller, if they had one?

So Anna took action, stepping forward and clapping her hands. Her staff all looked at her.

“We’re actually good, you can go, it’s okay,” she said with authority. “We’ll be in the fifth floor living room, and we’ll call if we need you.” As they were leaving, she was hit by inspiration; she grinned. “Oh, and one more thing: someone tell Gunilla that we do need extra food for a few guests after all, and could she bring it and plenty of hot drinks herself? Make sure it’s her specifically, leave the kitchen girls in peace, I don’t want _ them _ to have to go to any trouble.”

“Very good, ma’am.”

“I gotta say,” Honeymaren remarked quietly to Elsa as the staff members left, “you were right. She’s wearing this whole queen thing pretty well.”

For an entire two seconds, Anna had no idea how to respond to that, or if she should. So instead, she loudly pretended she hadn’t heard. 

“C’mon, the living room’s this way! Oh, I hope you all like it.”

“If it’s anything like this castle,” Yelana said as they moved through the hallways and up the staircase, looking around herself at the high wooden ceilings that had always reminded Anna of the interior of a Viking ship, the tapestries, the paintings, the elaborate patterns that had been carved into the wood of the building, Ryder unabashedly gaping at it all next to her, “I’m sure it’ll be  _ roomy _ at least.” 

“Oh, absolutely. On top of all of us, we could probably fit Marshmallow, the snowgies, and all of Kristoff’s troll family in there too.”

“ _ Who, what, _ and his _ what? _ ” 

“Uhh, long story.”

“Oh yeah,” Olaf said brightly, waddling along next to Sven’s hooves, “Marshmallow and the snowgies are my little brothers. Elsa made ‘em by accident, but it’s all good. They lived on the North Mountain for a couple years, but now I think they moved to the inside of Ahtohallan when the ice palace collapsed when Elsa died there for a little while --”

“Elsa,” Honeymaren said, a slight teasing note in her voice, “I can only hope he means these are more snowmen and not real actual children of yours.”

“What would you say if they were?” Elsa teased right back, playfully nudging her friend’s shoulder with her own.

“Well, first of all I think she’d ask why you were keeping your children in a magical glacier,” Kristoff said dryly. Elsa made a face at him; Sven let out a bray that sounded like a laugh. 

Smiling, Anna moved to the living room door. She took a breath, reaching for the handle, which gave way easily under her touch. She then threw the door open with a flourish, sweeping her arm out in a welcoming gesture. 

The whole crowd moved inside, Mattias and the Northuldra trio looking around, taking it all in. It was the biggest living room -- of the five -- in the castle, great glass doors on the other side of the room that opened to a long balcony, a fireplace the size of a sleigh with a roaring blaze that filled the whole room with bone-soaking warmth and the scent of pine smoke, the holly leaves and evergreen wreaths that hung on the doors and furniture, the grand piano that had been brought into the far side of the room, and the two family portraits on the wall. One was from nearly seventeen years ago, featuring Agnarr, Iduna, and Elsa and Anna as small children, their parents gazing serenely out at the viewer, little Elsa smiling shyly, and little Anna beaming eagerly. The other was from just the previous year, featuring the two sisters as grown women, with Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf at their side, everyone side by side and lovingly leaning into each other, big happy smiles on every single one of their faces. 

Ryder all but ran over to the fire, flopping down happily into the nearest armchair to it. Honeymaren moved over more slowly, eventually slipping into an armchair just across from her brother. Olaf waddled over to the fire too, lying down on the floor to bask in the heat, Sven joining him, his big furry form draped over almost the entire carpet. Someone had left a bucket of water for him, which he slurped from greedily, splattering the floor, but nobody seemed to notice. Elsa and Kristoff took their favorite couch, sinking into the soft cushions and leaning into each other like they’d known each other all their lives. 

Mattias and Yelana hesitated, though. Instead of going to join the others, they moved over to the family portraits, gravitating toward the older one of the two. There were odd expressions on both of their faces as they stared up at Agnarr’s and Iduna’s calm, regal faces. 

Anna walked over to them. 

“Is something wrong?”

Both of them were snapped out of their spell. 

“No, my queen,” Mattias murmured, looking away from the image of her father. “It’s just…” He glanced back. “It’s strange, seeing him as an adult, a married man with children. When I last saw him, he was just fourteen years old.” He chuckled. “So determined, so eager. So intent on being a good king. He spent half his time in the library and the other half in the classroom. His mother always had to order him to stop reading and go to bed.”

It took Yelana another moment.

“I wasn’t close with Iduna or her family,” she admitted. “But I do remember her. When I was younger, I would always see her around, playing with the reindeer and the wind spirits, dodging her parents, running around like a little hellion.”

“‘Little hellion’?” It was hard to reconcile Yelana’s words with her memory of her tranquil, gentle mother. “Well, there’s something we had in common.”

The older woman finally smiled a bit. In the firelight, her white hair seemed to glimmer softly. 

“Perhaps it was because neither of you ever expected to be queen. But yes, she loved nature, loved exploring, loved everything and everyone she ever met. She would’ve been fourteen, like your father, when the battle happened, and most children that age are utterly insufferable, but Iduna still took pleasure in seeing people, animals, and spirits, in being with them, and tried to be good to them all. Except her parents, but no fourteen-year-old does.”

“What happened to them?” The words fell out before Anna could stop herself. 

Mattias suddenly looked uncomfortable. Yelana sighed. 

“Your grandfathers were fighting each other when they toppled off that cliff.”

Anna stared in shock. 

“Your grandfather was so enraged at the injustice done to our people, he dared fly at the king of Arendelle himself. Even though he knew he had no chance of winning, he had no combat experience, no real weapons; he was just a reindeer herder, nobody of import in our tribe, but he was  _ so _ determined to see justice be done for our leader’s murder.” She looked back up at Iduna’s image. “Your grandmother died twelve years later. Tuberculosis. She never knew what had happened to her daughter, or that she had grandchildren fathered by the new king of Arendelle, of all people.”

“I remember her,” Mattias said. “Toughest woman I ever met. She fought in the battle herself with a sword she’d stolen from one of my men; every time I saw her after that she was trying to skewer me in the kidneys.” He chuckled softly. “Her husband’s death, the loss of her daughter, and she still went on and kept his reindeer herds in line herself, kept me and my men in line too, I might add. Private Janssen once tried to tell her to go back to the kitchen like a good woman instead of pretending to be half a man, and she told him, and I’ll never forget this: ‘I’m the best woman you’ll ever meet, Janssen, and I’m twice the man you’ll ever be.’”

Both Anna and Yelana laughed, a little of the pain of memory easing.

“She was kind too, though,” he continued. “Not to me, but I would see her with her people. She seemed to love everyone around her, and they adored her; she must have been in unbearable pain after losing her family, but she was still so good to them. She was an admirable person.”

“I think I would’ve liked my grandmother. What was her name?”

The older adults shared looks, a small smile. It was Yelana who answered.

“Anna.”

Anna started.

“Her name was Anna.”

Taken aback, blinking rapidly, Anna looked up at the two pictures, too overwhelmed to reply. 

“I wish I still had them all around,” she confessed. “I mean except Runeard, obviously.”

“Obviously,” they said in unison.

“I mean, I know my parents fucked over Elsa and me --”

The older adults started, cutting her off.

“Sorry,” Yelana said, looking at Anna again. “I just never would’ve guessed that Arendelle’s precious royalty would do something as improper as swear.”

“Oh, I’ve been improper since birth,” Anna shrugged. “As I was saying, I know they fucked over Elsa and me, that what they did was wrong and harmful, but...it’s stupid, but I still love them. I still miss them. We should all be together, we...we’re family. Family should be together. I don’t want to be alone again.”

All of them were silent for a moment. In the background, she could still hear everyone else chattering and laughing; Olaf was rattling off random facts about animals again. 

“Your Majesty,” Mattias ventured. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know I’m not exactly the authority on relationships, having been trapped in the forest away from my kingdom for thirty-four years and all --”

“And worse, I was trapped with you,” Yelana muttered.

“-- but if you miss being with family, then you should probably  _ tell _ your family.”

All three of them turned and took in the scene at the fireplace. Anna looked at them; they seemed so happy, so content. She didn’t doubt that Sven and Olaf wanted to be around her, and she knew that it wasn’t Kristoff’s fault he had other work to do and other family to see, but Elsa...Elsa had a new home now. A new purpose. New self-actualization. Did she really need Anna, really trust her, or was shunting the kingdom off on her just what was necessary for her to leave and protect the land?

“You don’t have to call me ‘my queen’ or ‘Your Majesty,’ either of you,” she said at last. “I mean,” she addressed Mattias, “you practically raised my father. And you,” she addressed Yelana, “we’re from the same people. Heh, we’re practically kin. You can just call me Anna. Both of you.”

They both looked rather astonished. 

“I never would’ve considered being kin to someone from Arendelle,” Yelana admitted. 

“I mean, you don’t have to,” Anna said hurriedly. “Yeah, um, I get that Runeard was a total bastard, so you don’t have to trust me or my people, honest. But I want to be on good footing with your clan as much as my sister does, I promise. For you guys’ sake, and for my mother’s.”

Yelana said nothing. But she inclined her head in a slight, welcome nod, and Anna took that as a victory.

Mattias, for his part, extended his hand to Anna, smiling.

“Alright then. If I have to call you Anna, then I have to insist that you call me Destin.”

She giggled. 

“Your name’s Destin?”

“Yes, you can see why I usually go by my surname.”

“Alright. Destin.” She took his hand and shook it. His palm and fingers were roughly calloused and warm, like her father’s had been. “Wanna go join the others?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Just as they went to go sit down, the door clicked open, and Gunilla appeared. Looking even more sour than usual, she had two large trays balanced in hand, one laden with steaming cups and a ceramic pitcher, the other with a spread of food, a huge cake and roast and  _ lutefisk _ and  _ raspeballer _ and  _ pinnekjøtt  _ and caviar and  _ fårikål _ with potatoes. The aromas wafted across the room, mingling with the comforting scent of the fire; everybody straightened up and looked over at once. 

“Your Majesty,” she said grumpily, setting the trays down on the small table in the middle of the furniture, “I have the food and hot drinks you requested. And made me climb all these stairs to give to you when I could’ve sent a couple of those lazy girls instead.”

“ _ She _ hasn’t changed,” Elsa murmured under her breath. Her voice had great dignity to it. “Bitter old cow.” 

Anna and Kristoff resisted snickers.

“Thank you, Gunilla. We’ll ring you if we need anything else.”

The cook made for the hallway.

“Oh, and Gunilla?”

She froze in place at Anna’s light tone. 

“As queen, I’m going to be instituting a new rule, starting with the kitchens.” She dusted off the front of her dress, straightening her shoulders. “All the servants, especially the younger men and women, are to be treated with the same respect and kindness that you would show your ruler.”

Gunilla gaped. 

“As are their lives and concerns.” Anna grinned. “None of them should be bullied or dismissed out of hand. None of the senior staff can fire somebody without consulting me first, and any affront to them is an affront to me.” She was barely resisting the urge to jump and laugh at the expression on the cook’s face. “That will be all. Good day.”

“Y...yes. Your Majesty.”

Her eyes were still bulging as she closed the door behind her.

“I don’t know what prompted that,” Honeymaren remarked, reaching for a mug and a plate of the roast and  _ lutefisk _ , her brother eagerly diving for the  _ fårikål,  _ “but judging by the look on her face, I’d say it was very much deserved.”

“You have no idea.” Anna finally sat down on the couch, right in the middle of her sister and her fiancé, both of them scooching over on instinct, then leaning in on either side of her. “Old bitch.”

Yelana and Mattias started again while the younger adults smirked.

“‘Bitch’ is one of the words I’m not allowed to say, right?”

“Yes, Olaf.”

“Ooh, okay. Gotta remember that. Last time I forgot one of the words on the list it made the princess of Sweden really angry.”

“Don’t remind me,” Elsa chuckled. “We almost had a war on our hands because my snowman forgot that you can’t call the princess of Sweden a great big mean old fuck.”

Everybody burst out laughing at once. Honeymaren choked on her drink; Ryder had to get up and overenthusiastically thump her on the back.

“Eh, she deserved it,” Anna said between giggles. “Do you remember how red her face went?”

She sipped a drink of her own, the rich spicy taste of hot  _ gløgg _ washing over her tongue. Kristoff put his arm around her, and she nestled in. 

“You could have unfrozen someone’s heart on her cheeks,” Elsa declared. Both sisters dissolved into laughter again.

“My God, how many international incidents have you girls caused since the Eternal Winter?” Kristoff asked, his voice teasing. “You must be up to the dozens by now.”

“Hey.” She reached up to poke him in the nose, making him laugh and Elsa smile. “You’re the one who, when Bishop Pettersen asked if you were a Christian, you asked what exactly that meant, he said ‘do you know Jesus Christ?’ and you said, ‘No, I’ve never met the guy.’”

This time it was Ryder who laughed so hard he choked.

“I thought we were going to have to soothe the entire Catholic Church,” Elsa recalled. “I had to write the Vatican itself and explain that you were joking to them. For some reason, I don’t think the Pope has ever heard of jokes.”

“What does it matter?” Mattias asked, stifling his own giggles. Yelana huffed at him. “Arendelle’s mostly Lutheran anyway.”

“Yes, that didn’t endear us to the Pope any more, let me tell you.”

“Bishop Pettersen  _ did _ say that Luther had some valid points, though,” Anna remembered. She gathered a plate of food for herself, drinking her  _ gløgg,  _ relaxing into the warmth of the fire and the warmth of the people at her side. “He seems like a chill guy.”

“Well yeah, but everyone’s chill right now,” Ryder said, “it’s midwinter.”

Kristoff laughed, and Elsa and Honeymaren both rolled their eyes spectacularly. 

“Elsa, you should get it. You’re the most chill of us all.”

“I can see why you two get along so well,” Elsa said dryly as the men snickered. “And that’s  _ not _ a compliment.”

“I think they choose to take it as one,” Anna decided. She turned to face her husband-to-be again. “Personally, I’m glad you have a friend.”

The men looked pleased. Sven twitched his ears, tilting his head to the side. 

“Considering that up till now your only friends were a reindeer, a snowman, your fiancée, and your sister-in-law.”

The pleased expressions were immediately swapped for grumpy ones.

“Shut up,” Kristoff grumbled while Elsa laughed. 

“No way, honey. You’re stuck with me and my mouth for life.” She paused. “That came out wrong.” She paused again. “Or did it?”

“Ohhhhh,” Ryder called while his sister smirked, Kristoff turning red. Elsa wrinkled her nose, taking Bruni out of her sleeve again, running a finger along his back. The little salamander wriggled happily in her hand, cuddling against her cupped palm. 

“I did not need to hear that.”

Sven let out a groaning noise that sounded like another laugh. Olaf laughed too, then stopped.

“I don’t get it.”  
“We’ll tell you when you’re older,” Anna assured him, leaning forward to pet his head, then scratching Sven under the chin like a puppy. The reindeer grunted happily, resting his head into her touch. “Hey, Ryder, Honey, Yelana, Destin, how are you guys adjusting to living freely again?”

Ryder scratched his head, looking at Mattias. 

“Your first name is Destin? Really?”

Mattias gave the younger man an odd look.

“You didn’t think my first name was Lieutenant, did you?”

“...No.”

Honeymaren cleared her throat, then her eyes softened. 

“It’s weird,” she admitted, bending down to pet Sven too. “My brother and I were born under the mist. Before Elsa here ended the curse, we’d never even seen the sky before.”

Ryder nodded.

“And now we’re able to move outside the forest, to travel…” A faraway expression entered her face. “The world is so much bigger than two kids who thought they would live and die under the mist could’ve ever imagined.” She shot a fond look at her brother. “Especially since one of those kids is an idiot.”

“Don’t say that about yourself, Honey,” he said.

Anna stifled a snort. 

“We owe you and your sister a huge debt.” Honeymaren gently fondled Sven’s ears. 

“No,” Elsa replied, her voice soft. “You don’t owe us a thing. We were only trying to atone for our grandfather’s crimes; we haven’t even begun to make up for everything our father’s ancestors have done.”

“She’s right,” Yelana declared. The old woman sat straight, her thin, but strong hands wrapped firmly around her mug. “One act of goodwill doesn’t undo centuries of fighting and persecution. You two have a lot more work to do if there’ll ever be true peace between our peoples.”

“We will try, though,” Anna blurted. Everyone’s eyes fell on her. “Elsa and I will do everything we can, and our descendants will after us, to fight for that peace between Arendelle and the land, the animals, the spirits, and the Northuldra. As queen, I swear it. You guys are part of our family too, and we -- I -- will do anything for our family.”

They all kept staring for a moment. 

Then the balcony door creaked slightly, and she heard the wind letting out a soft noise through the glass, like a sigh of contentment. Bruni, in Elsa’s hands, squeaked in agreement.

Mattias inclined his head towards Anna with respect. The Nattura siblings beamed, and Yelana nodded slowly, a smile growing across her own face. 

“I look forward to working with you, Queen Anna.”

Anna felt her chest swell. For some reason, she found herself unable to look at Kristoff and Elsa. 

“This is the best family ever,” Olaf said happily, getting up to hug Mattias’ legs. The old general almost leapt out of his couch seat, making the others chuckle. “Hey, family, do you wanna play a family game?”

“You guys have family games?” Ryder said excitedly. His sister’s eyes lit up.

“Oh yeah! Do you guys know how to play charades? Do you have that in the Enchanted Forest?”

“No, how do you play?”

“That I actually do know,” Mattias spoke up, carefully disentangling Olaf’s arms from his knees so he could stand. “C’mon, Yelana. You wanna join in?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What’s the matter? Are you afraid I’ll beat you?”

She glared at him for a few seconds. Then she reluctantly got to her feet. 

“Ooh!” Olaf enthused. “Now we have enough for boys vs. girls!”

“Works for me,” Honeymaren decided, stretching her arms over her head. She glanced over at Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff. “You guys wanna join in?”

“We’ll catch up later,” Elsa decided.

“Suit yourselves.”

The rest all got up, taking their food and drinks, and migrated a little further away, just outside the glass balcony doors. With another squeak, Bruni jumped down and scurried over, crawling up onto Olaf’s head, presumably to get a better look at it all. The wind still blew gently outside, making the glass doors  _ creak, creak, creak  _ in rhythm like the hull of an old Norse ship, interspersing with Olaf’s and Mattias’ interrupting each other in their attempts to explain the rules to the others.

Elsa refilled her mug from the pitcher, then got to her feet. She moved over to the fireplace, twitching her hand; a burst of snowy wind lifted another log from beside the hearth and dropped it down atop the flames. Then when she walked back over, she moved past the couch.

“Elsa, where are you going?”

“Oh, I, I’m just going to see if I remember my piano lessons.” Elsa brushed her cape back, tugging her pale hair over her shoulder. She looked at her sister. “You two can talk, if you like.”

“Oh...sure.” Anna reached for the cake, cutting herself a slice, trying to ignore the sudden knot of feelings in her chest. “You can leave me with Kristoff for a minute, we’ll be fine.” She tried for a joke. “I’m like, eighty percent sure he  _ won’t _ snatch me off to elope.”

“No promises,” Kristoff said.

Elsa raised an eyebrow at her future brother-in-law, who lifted his chin at her.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not opposed to freezing bits of you off, you know; see if Anna’ll still want you without your --”

“ _ Elsa! _ ”

“-- Nose,” Elsa finished, then looked disgusted again. “I was  _ going _ to say  _ nose _ .”

“Oh. Really?”

“ _ Yes. _ ”

Kristoff laughed, and both women scowled at him -- albeit with no real anger. 

“It’s all good, Elsa, really,” he said. “I’d never want to do anything to ruin this, honest.”

Anna’s chest warmed and her heart fluttered; still the same after three-and-a-half years. At the same time, Elsa’s expression softened, before she bent and kissed both their foreheads. Anna could still feel her sister’s cool touch on her skin even after Elsa straightened up again. 

“I’m going to hold you to that, Bjorgman.”

She glided off to the piano, flipping her cape out from under her as she sat down, touching her fingers to the ivory keys. Anna nestled in again, listening to the crackling and popping of the fire, the little whistles and sighs of Gale’s wind, and to the gentle, slow clinks of the piano keys. Anna realized after a moment that her sister was playing the opening verse of  _ Good King Wenceslas _ .

“Hey, I didn’t get the chance to ask you.” Kristoff was very big and warm against her; she felt safe next to him, like the cold outside couldn’t touch her. “How was your family?”

“Oh, same as always.” He ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “Loud, pushy, stubborn, full of affection. Insisted on keeping me longer than I’d planned. Cousin Amethyst’s still going through her man troubles. Uncle Silica’s gallbladder is acting up again. My parents --” He cut himself off, suddenly looking embarrassed.

“What? What about your parents?”

“Nothing.” He huffed out a breath, sounding remarkably like Sven. He faced the fireplace; she saw the light cast on his face, painting his features with a rosy glow. “Look, um, Anna...I didn’t mean to be gone for so long. Especially not with all these new queen duties you have going on.”

“Oh, Kristoff, you don’t have to --”

“Hey, let me finish. I know this is stressing you out. It’s a lot of new responsibility, and knowing you, you don’t think you’re good enough to do it.”

Anna felt herself flush. 

“Two things. First of all, you  _ are  _ good enough. More than good enough. I…” He stumbled over his words, God bless him, he wasn’t eloquent by nature, but he was still trying. “You’re more than enough for the throne, Anna.”

She stared at her plate. 

“Second of all, I’m no good at this royalty stuff myself, and I know there’s a lot you’re going to have to do yourself, but I wanna be here for you. I wanna help you with what you need.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to not have anyone in your corner.”

Anna took a deep breath, trying to control herself -- but what came out was her usual steady stream of honesty.

“Kristoff, do I rely on people too much?”

He blinked in surprise.

“I’m offering to help you, and you’re asking me if you rely on people too much?”

“Yeah, I know, shitty timing, but I just...I felt so lost and lonely without you and everyone else. Not just today, but when we were in the forest, when I was alone, when I thought I had to destroy the dam somehow by myself, and like...every other time you guys aren’t around. Fuck, it’s like...after being alone for all those years, maybe after I got people back in my life, I latched on too tight. Needed you all too much.” She smiled a little bitterly. “Elsa certainly doesn’t have that problem.”

“Yeah, but you’re not Elsa. You need different things than she does.”

They both looked over towards the piano. Elsa was still sitting up perfectly straight, her expression tranquil as she kept softly playing. Her loose hair had fallen slightly across her face, and she worked the pedals almost on instinct, humming softly along to the next song. The slow tune evoked the fall of lazy snow on a winter night; her sister smiled as she pulled one musical note after another. 

“She seems so happy now.”

“She does,” he conceded. “But knowing  _ her _ ...there’s a lot more going on under the surface.” He paused. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“I suppose so.”

For another few moments, they were both quiet. 

“Hey, Kristoff?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For needing me?”

“No, for...for leaving you in the forest. For ignoring you so much during that time. I know she needed me, but I should’ve considered _ your  _ feelings too.”

He looked genuinely surprised, which made her feel worse. Had he really not thought that she would regret that? Was she that terrible to love?

“I’m sorry,  _ really, _ I didn’t mean to make you feel worthless or like you were second-fiddle to my sister. I love  _ both _ of you, albeit in, um, different ways --”

“Uh, I would  _ hope _ so.”

“-- but I did a really bad job of showing it.” She leaned into him again. “Maybe it’s good that neither of you need me.”

“Wh -- wait, what?”

She felt his big hand cup her chin, guiding her to look upward so that their eyes made contact. He still looked astonished, but there was something else in his expression now.

“Anna, if I know a thing about myself or Elsa, we  _ do _ need you. Yeah, neither of us are exactly people-persons, and yeah, maybe she needs something different than you and we both have other people in our lives, but we love you. You’re this amazing, extraordinary person, and she and I both know that you’re a hero, and that once you get it all worked out, you’re going to be a great queen.” He paused, still looking at her intently. “And I accept your apology. Just don’t ever say that I don’t need you, okay?”

Affection surged through her chest. It was still a little hard to believe, but she was still able to let his words sink through her. She pulled him into a tighter embrace, feeling his arms around her again, reveling in his presence as, around them, the fire burned and the piano played. 

“Kristoff, what did your parents say?”

He was quiet for only a moment.

“They said that I was lucky to have you.”

Her chest tightened.

“They also, um…” He sounded a little sheepish. “Wanted to know when they’d be having grandchildren.”

Anna looked directly up at him.

“Soon?”

“Soon.”

She couldn’t help but beam, lying back down against him. 

As she did, listening to the room again, she was surprised to hear shouting and arguing from the other side of it. They both looked around at their friends. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” Olaf was exclaiming, waving his stick hands in the air. Standing next to him, Ryder looked frustrated, and Mattias looked deeply embarrassed. The two women standing a little aways looked smug; Sven actually looked amused. “How were we supposed to guess who you were? I don’t want to say bad words, but that was a  _ terrible _ impression!”

“I’m sorry, Olaf,” Mattias replied, spreading his hands. “But please give me a break, that was my first time impersonating her.”

“We can’t have a break!” Ryder exclaimed. “The girls are winning! Who knew my sister was so good at guessing like that?”

“I have lots of practice pulling meaning out of nonsense, having lived with you my whole life,” Honeymaren called over. 

“Okay, okay.” Mattias lifted his hands in surrender. “For next time: how do I do a better Elsa?”

The piano  _ plunked _ to a halt. 

“More flair,” Yelana deadpanned. “More…” She lifted her hand, spinning it in a surprisingly good imitation of the magic gestures. “Pizzazz.”

“Let me help you.” Honeymaren came over and stood beside him, her face earnest. “Okay, see, spread your arms and lift your shoulders.”

Anna struggled not to laugh, making a weird snorting noise instead. She looked up, and saw that Kristoff had no qualms; he was grinning like a maniac, which she supposed she could understand. 

“Like this?”

“Yes. Okay, lift your head. Hood your eyes a little bit, and smile, all sultry-like.”

“Oh, that’s better already,” Ryder enthused. “You really get her, Honey.”

“Thank you. Toss your head, like this, like what I’m doing, and  _ strut _ .”

Kristoff burst out laughing, and this time, Anna joined him. 

“No no, don’t walk,  _ strut _ . There’s a difference.”

“What  _ is _ the difference?” Mattias asked, genuinely curious. 

“Ooh!” Olaf lifted his hand. “You gotta really,  _ really _ put your hips into it.”

The old soldier looked at the little snowman.

“Trust me, I do a  _ great _ Elsa impersonation. Watch me.”

He jumped up and stood side by side with Mattias and Honeymaren. Yelana was actually looking amused as she sipped her  _ gløgg _ , watching the show, and Ryder looked like a child for whom his birthday had come early. 

Then Olaf flung his arms out wide, and, with all eyes on him, he strutted down the carpet with his hands high, and by God did he put his hips into it. 

“That was pretty okay, right?” he asked at the end. 

Once again, this was too much for Kristoff. At the same time, it was too much for the room at large; everybody burst out laughing at once. Yelana inhaled half her drink up her nose, Mattias doubled over and clutched his sides, the Nattura siblings had to hold each other up, Sven let out a loud bray of amusement, and Anna and Kristoff fell into each other as they lost it.

Olaf bowed, though he didn’t seem to understand what was funny; he sounded totally sincere.

“Thank you. Thank you. I’m here all week.”

“He  _ does _ do a great Elsa impersonation,” came the soft, slightly amused voice behind them. 

They both froze -- then looked around. 

Sure enough, Elsa was standing right behind the couch, shrugging and inclining her head to the side as if to say  _ Yeah, that’s me.  _

“Doesn’t he?” Kristoff agreed.

“Oh yes. He certainly has the pizzazz.”

Anna grinned sheepishly. Elsa just smiled. 

The three of them watched the others, whose activities had now devolved from charades into seeing who -- aside from Olaf -- could do the best Elsa impersonation. Even Sven was giving it a shot, but so far Ryder was winning. Yelana was refusing to do anything but watch and try to finish her drink...for now. 

“I think Honeymaren should’ve won that last round,” Anna opined. “She really does know how to nail your strut.”

“Oh, yeah, after spending so much time with me for the last couple months, I’d  _ hope _ that she’d be able to get my mannerisms.”

Elsa’s gaze was fixed on the other woman, so she didn’t notice Anna and Kristoff shooting each other significant looks. 

_ Interesting,  _ she mouthed, and he nodded in agreement. 

“Well, I really do think it’s nice that you’re both making friends,” Anna said, beginning on her chocolate cake. The frosting all but melted in her mouth; she moaned loudly, making Elsa jump.

“Sorry.” Her sister brushed down the front of her dress. “I just thought for a second that you were cheating on Kristoff.”

“Oh, she is. And I’m telling you, if it comes down to me or the cake, there’s no way she’s picking me,” he agreed.

“Damn right.” She took another bite, then chased it with her  _ gløgg.  _ “But seriously, seeing you with more people -- and animals, and spirits -- and being able to express yourselves and your feelings, it’s just a big reminder for me of how far you guys have come.”

Her sister and her fiancé looked at each other, and then at her. 

“I suppose we  _ have _ come a long way over the last three-and-a-half years,” Elsa murmured.

“Oh, I know we have.” Kristoff took a drink of his own. “I mean, think of what we were all like at the onset of the Eternal Winter. Who we were then  _ never _ would’ve recognized who we are now.”

The two women nodded, and for a minute, the three of them were lost in memory. Not nostalgia though; they thought of their regret, sorrow, bitterness, pain, fear. All their mistakes, and all the loneliness that so many of their years had been mired in. 

“And if it weren’t for  _ you _ , Anna,” Kristoff spoke up again, “we’d all still be like that.”

Her heart felt warm for him again. 

But Elsa said nothing, just turned her head and looked into the flickering fire. She spun her hand, tossing on another log, her expression inscrutable. 

“I’m going to take our dishes down,” her sister said after a moment. “Ask for some more  _ gløgg,  _ we’re almost out.”

“Elsa --”

She moved around the room, gathering the dishes like she was an ordinary girl and not royalty, not half a spirit, and still not making eye contact as she moved towards the door. As it clicked shut behind her, the knot of emotion tightened and a surge of irritation rose in Anna that swiftly turned to anger. 

The others turned, pausing their antics.

“Where’s she going?” Olaf asked, puzzled. “Where we  _ that _ bad at imitating her?”

Sven grunted and Bruni squeaked. 

Anna got to her feet. 

“Kristoff?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you told me to go have words with her?”

“That’s, uh, not exactly how I put it…”

“Well, I’m going to do that right now.”

“Anna --”

She bent and kissed him.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, despite the clenching in her heart and the churning in her gut. The concern in his expression alleviated somewhat. “Just let me talk to my sister.”

“Alright. I trust you.”

She nodded, then ran to the door, throwing it open, running down the hallways. Outside the frosted glass windows, she saw that it was beginning to snow again, the little drops of white swirling in the cold air, so many of them standing out against the blue-black night they were almost like the stars. 

The memory of almost the exact same sight during the Eternal Winter gave her vertigo. 

“Elsa!”

Her voice echoed through the castle; again, it sounded so much like her eighteen-year-old self. A bolt of fear intermingled with her anger.

“Elsa!”

“Anna, what is it?” 

Anna ran to the end of the hallway and looked over the edge of the staircase. 

Elsa was standing at the very bottom of the stairs, the dishes in her arms, her head tilted to the side in confusion. Surrounded by the richly brown wood, the festoons of greenery, and the red-and-gold decorations, with her pale skin, pale dress, pale hair, she looked like an ice sculpture in the middle of a summer garden; she left a cool breeze in her wake, even through the castle with a hundred fires lit. 

“Oh, God. Elsa, I...I…”

“Anna, is something wrong?”

A passing valet took the stack of dishes from the former queen’s arms, nodding to her respectfully; she murmured something to him. Now that her arms were freed, Elsa moved forward, placing her hand on the banister. 

Anna thumped her own hand against the railing.

“Don’t run off like that when I’m trying to talk to you!”

“When...I was just taking the dishes down. Anna, did I do something to upset you?”

Her sister’s calm confusion just served to infuriate her more.

“Get up here! Come on!”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Elsa snapped, but she began moving up the staircase anyway. Her cape glided out behind her like translucent wings, trailing gently on the stairs behind her. It made Anna think of when they were little, when they would play Enchanted Forest, of Elsa’s favorite character, the fairy queen; that Elsa had  _ made _ herself the fairy queen of the  _ real _ Enchanted Forest. “You may rule here, but…”

Anna heard unspoken words echo in her mind.  _ But I was ruler first, for longer, and even when I don’t wear our family’s crown, I am still a queen. You best not forget it, Anna: I may not rule Arendelle, but I am still the Snow Queen.  _

“‘I may rule here?’” Anna burst out. “You say that like you’re not the one who foisted the throne off on me in the first place!”

Elsa reached the top of the stairs; her blue eyes hardened.

“I’m not doing this with you here.” She looked around the hallway, looked back down the staircase, clearly searching for eavesdroppers. “Where’s an unoccupied room?”

Anna growled through her teeth, then grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her along to the nearest room -- which happened to be a broom closet. She hoisted Elsa inside, pulling it mostly shut behind them, wedging the two of them in between a cluster of mops. 

“Couldn’t you have found us someplace roomier?” Elsa shifted against the broom that kept falling down on her shoulder. “Like, maybe a mouse hole?”

“Why did you do it?”

Elsa blinked, thrown for a loop.

“Why did I do what?”

“This!” Anna violently gestured to herself, so frantic she almost slapped herself in the face. “Why did you do it, Elsa? Why did you make me queen?”

Elsa’s confusion and irritation melted, leaving behind an expression Anna couldn’t read.

Even so, the words just kept pouring out. 

“Like, I get why you had to go back to the forest. I understand that you’re part of the bridge between the spirits and our kingdom, all the work you have to do to make the peace. But why did you have to leave me, Elsa?” Her voice broke. “Why did you have to leave me with all this?”

“Anna…”

“ _ You’re  _ the queen! Not me!” Anna clutched the sides of her head. “You and I both know it!  _ You _ were the one who trained your whole life for this, I wasn’t!  _ You _ don’t mind being a little bit apart and away from everyone, but I do!  _ You _ know how to handle the paperwork, the meetings, the politics, the everything, but I don’t! You’re regal, and graceful, and elegant, and you command authority, and you’re good at everything, and I…” Anna realized she was crying again. “I’m not. I don’t know how to do this, Elsa. I’m just the spare sister. The leftover. I should never have been queen, but you made me. And you left me. You left me alone again to do all this. Elsa, you left me…”

Elsa, her eyes full of emotion, opened her arms. Anna fell into them, sobbing noisily against her sister’s dress, feeling her sister’s cool arms wrap about her, feeling her sister hold her close. Elsa’s fingers clasped Anna’s shoulders, not letting her go. 

“When you say I left you...you’re not just talking about leaving you the kingdom, are you?”

“How could you, Elsa?” Anna could barely see through her tears. “How could you leave me in the forest? Right after we watched our parents’ last moments on Earth, when I thought I might lose you like I lost them? I thought Kristoff and Sven were gone. I thought...no, Olaf  _ was _ gone. You were gone...do you have any idea how that felt? How could you do that to me?”

Elsa was quiet for a few moments, still holding her, still letting her cry. 

“Anna...I’m sorry.”

The apology took her aback, causing a hiccup in her sobs.

“I’m sorry for leaving you.” She realized that her sister’s voice was unsteady, like she was near tears too. “I should never have abandoned you in the forest like that. I should never have been part of making you feel like that.”

“No. No, you shouldn’t have.”

Elsa’s hands tightened, one of them rubbing up and down Anna’s shoulder, like when she’d held her when they were little. Without meaning to, Anna curled closer into her sister’s arms.

“And I never should’ve made you feel so lost, so alone. You don’t deserve that. I should’ve been there for you more over the last two months, should’ve helped you; you should never have to feel like you have no one around for you.”

Anna pulled slightly away to look at her sister, sniffing loudly, scrubbing at her undoubtedly red, blotchy, wet face. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said. “I’m no good at this. I don’t know why you made me queen.”

“I believe you. I believe that you’re confused, and you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing.” Elsa paused, taking a deep breath, her voice soft. “But I’ll tell you why I made you queen.”

Anna started, staring into Elsa’s face. Utter belief in what she was saying had filled her sister’s suddenly bright gaze. 

“Because you’ll be a better one than me, Anna.”

“Wh...what?”

Elsa reached up to wipe at her own eyes.

“I mean it. I didn’t give the kingdom to you because I have better things I want to be doing. I gave it to you because I trust you, and because yours are the best hands I think our people could be in.”

Anna started to say something, but Elsa shushed her. 

“Let me finish. Don’t denigrate yourself. You saved me from Hans’ sword, from turning to ice, from my own fear and lack of control. You saved our entire kingdom from my storm. You saved the forest, the spirits, and the Northuldra from Runeard’s dam. You saved Kristoff from a lifetime of loneliness. You have never, ever given up on any of us, on your family, on your people, you have never stopped trying to help everyone around you. What’s regality and grace and elegance compared to a good heart? Even three years’ experience with the politics and the handshaking and the rhetoric, and even a lifetime of training to rule, can’t teach what you have, can’t teach compassion and kindness and courage. The practical stuff will come in time.” 

Elsa blinked hard. 

“You would’ve given up your life for me, for everyone in our kingdom. You would’ve given up your home for the Northuldra. When everything’s at its worst, even when you’re tempted to, you don’t give up, Anna. I know you feel isolated sometimes, but you keep trying to help people, to do, well...the next right thing, and you better so many people’s lives because of it. You’re not a spare, or a leftover. Everyone around you needs you. We need you.” Tears were now openly streaming down Elsa’s cheeks. “You’re not cut off from us. You’re a vital part of us. Always.” 

Anna was speechless at first. 

Several long seconds passed by, the two women staring at each other. The twenty-one-and-a-half years they had known each other seemed to all fly by in an instant. 

Then she pulled her close again, wrapping her in the tightest embrace possible. Love flooded her heart for her sister; it was still hard to believe all those things she’d said about her were true, but maybe they were, because Elsa believed it. Elsa believed in her. 

And so Anna’s anger didn’t entirely fade, but she still found herself able to forgive.

“And I don’t want to leave you again,” Elsa mumbled into her shoulder. “I...just get wrapped up in what I do. And besides, it’s hard for me to see that my baby sister doesn’t need me around anymore.”

“Oh, Elsa.” Anna let out a half-laugh-half-sob. “But I’ll always  _ want _ you around.”

Both sisters pulled apart, wiping at their tears, sniffling, Anna’s heart finally light. 

“I mean, c’mon. It’s Christmas. Family should be together.”

“Oh, the Yule Ball’s next week, isn’t it?” Elsa smiled again, running the heel of her palm over her cheeks to get the last of her tears. “I’ll make an appearance. The politicians should see that I’m still around; I find that them seeing the Snow Queen in their presence keeps them on their toes.”

“That it does.” Anna dried her eyes on her dress. “And your birthday’s next week too! You’ll be twenty-five! You should be with family for that, too.”

“What about Christmas Day itself?”

“Eh.”

They both giggled, then smiled at each other, Anna putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

“Let’s go back to the others. Like I said, it’s Christmas.”

“Agreed.”

Walking so close together that their shoulders were brushing, both women moved back down the hall to the living room. When they returned, pushing the door open together, Anna’s heart lifted again at seeing everyone. They had clustered back together next to the fire, most of the main food was gone, and they were now dividing up the cake. The valet from earlier replaced the empty pitcher with a fresh one full of the hot liquid, keeping the drinks flowing, then backing out of the room. The fire was still powerfully ablaze, still casting everyone in its warmth, while outside, the snow was flurrying down in full force, everything outside icy and blue and shining in the moonlight. 

Everyone was still laughing and talking, and Anna felt a strong rush of affection for her friends, for the snowmen, for the spirits, the trolls, for her parents, for her fiancé and for her sister. For their family. 

Elsa chose to announce their presence by stomping her foot. The ice moved across the floor like a living thing, shooting up about ten feet from the side of the fireplace and expanding outwards, swiftly morphing into a Christmas tree. The branches formed in the shape of massive snowflake fractals, growths of ice appearing in the shape of ornaments, garlands of snow wrapping around it in lieu of tinsel, the whole thing growing till it dwarfed the furniture, the clear, cold blue shimmering and reflecting the warm flickers of the fire. 

Everyone stared at the two sisters. 

“Show-off,” Honeymaren said at last, shaking her head affectionately. 

Anna felt herself grin broader than ever, practically sprinting back to the couch, jumping back up next to Kristoff. Elsa moved over too and stood next to the couch, and once again, Anna curled up between them, feeling nothing but joy in their presence, in their trust and their love. 

“Ooh, Elsa, now that you’re back, why don’t you play the piano some more?” Olaf suggested. “You and I can do a duet!”

“I’ll pass on the duet, Olaf,” she said politely. Then, teasingly: “But if Kristoff got his lute, then  _ we _ could sing a duet.”

“I don’t sing in front of people,” Kristoff said half-jokingly. “Only reindeer.”

“You might want to stop that. In fact, you might want to stop involving reindeer in public spectacles altogether; it’s quite an embarrassing look for you,” Yelana said pointedly. For some reason, this made Kristoff and Ryder redden. 

“And it’s not true that you don’t sing in front of people,” Anna argued, poking him in the chest. “You sing the Ballad of Flemmingrad in front of me and Elsa every December.”

“The  _ what? _ ”

“Don’t remind me of the Ballad of Flemmingrad,” Elsa groaned. “It’s been three years, and he’s still trying to get me to eat that damn stew and lick the damn moss-covered, lichen-covered rock.”

The idea of Elsa of all people licking anything moss-covered and lichen-covered sent the Nattura siblings into a fit of snickers.

“One of these years, Elsa.” Kristoff waved a finger at his future sister-in-law. “You’re just going to have to try the Flemmy Stew.”

“I would rather,” Elsa said primly, “eat my own fingernails.”

“C’mon, Elsa,” Anna wheedled, “All the rest of us have tried it. Even Olaf, and he doesn’t eat. He even thinks it’s good.”

“Olaf thinks  _ fruitcake _ is good.”

“It is good!” Olaf piped up. “Any food that can’t be destroyed by being dropped off a cliff is automatically good. Fruitcake is pretty much indestructible.”

“So...they eat cakes that are also concrete bricks in Arendelle?” Ryder asked, confused. 

“Yeah, there’s not much of a difference,” Olaf admitted. 

“We’d be happy to hear either of you girls sing,” Mattias spoke up before the food discussion could devolve any more, “Didn’t have the chance to hear anything like it before. Your father was never much of a musician, and honestly, I have no idea whether your mother could sing or not.”

“Our mother? Oh, she was a wonderful singer,” Anna recalled, leaning back into the couch. “But...she was so quiet most of the time, so reserved...you could really only get her to sing once in a while, and only really in front of Elsa and me.”

Mattias inclined his head. 

“That’s odd. Because in all my years around the Northuldra, they --” He looked at the three sitting near to him, “--  _ you _ , sang all the time. There wasn’t a lot I enjoyed about my years in the Enchanted Forest, but even when I still thought you all were my enemies, I could hear your singing all the way across the woods, and...honestly? I always enjoyed it.”

They looked at each other, then at him, Yelana inclining her head slightly.

“Mother, though…” Elsa sounded somewhere between wistful and sorrowful. “She was a queen. And singing, especially in front of people, was something that queens just didn’t do. It’s not considered dignified.”

“Besides, there’s no way she would’ve been able to acknowledge her heritage, her people, ruling Arendelle,” Honeymaren understood. “Her family.”

They were all quiet for a moment. 

Then Anna got to her feet again. She moved up to her sister.

“Elsa, can you bring the piano over here?”

“Oh, um, alright.”

Elsa twirled her hands over each other, and another wintry breeze flowed across the room, lifting the entire piano and carrying it to the main seating area, just outside the couches. The snow picked up outside, swirls of white building against the window, the wind twittering curiously. 

Her sister took her seat at the piano again, and Anna briefly ran outside, down the hall to her bedroom. She picked up Kristoff’s lute from next to her bed, where he’d left it before his trip, sprinting back and all but thrusting it into his arms. 

“You don’t have to sing,” she told him, “but could you please play?”

He blinked in surprise, then nodded in assent. 

She then turned to the others. The humans looked confused at first, but Sven lifted his head and Olaf gasped in excitement. 

“Will you guys sing with us?” 

Mattias looked surprised, but Yelana, Ryder, and Honeymaren all looked  _ completely  _ taken aback. Yelana stared at Anna, astonished, and Ryder and Honeymaren exchanged the kind of gapes and wide-eyes that only siblings share with each other. 

“We don’t know any of your songs,” Yelana said after a moment. “How do you expect us to sing with you if we don’t know any of your songs?”

“You don’t have to know.” Anna moved over to the piano, plunking a few of the keys in a rhythm. “Can you match that?” 

Yelana and Mattias were still silent for a moment. But Honeymaren got to her feet and moved over to the piano as Elsa began to play out the melody, and she sang. Not words, but with each key, she sang a note that matched perfectly, the two women in harmony. Ryder swiftly joined in, his low voice complementing his sister’s soft one, and Kristoff moved over as well, standing just next to Elsa, the high, clear strings of his lute mingling with the piano. Sven tapped his front hoof in time with the music, and Olaf began warbling along -- not on-key, but it didn’t matter, not one bit. Finally, the two eldest members of their group joined in: Mattias humming, low and warm, knowing the song by heart, while Yelana’s strong voice matched each note, her shoulders back and her head high as she vocalized. 

That was when Anna began to sing.

The words of the carol came to her with ease; her parents had used to have it played every year when she was little, she’d learned to sing it herself every Christmas she was alone. Then much later, when Elsa had begun the Yule Ball again, had had holiday festivities throughout the kingdom again each year, the castle had been filled with music again. 

The slow melody glided through the warm living room, curling around them like the wind and the snow, as Anna sang. She shouldn’t; she was queen, she should be dignified, distant, aloof. She should be apart from her people, from her family.

But as her family harmonized, Anna sang. 

Winter upon the land outside, the kingdom and the icy Christmas tree in shimmering blue while the blazing fire bathed the hearth and the decorations of greenery and the red-carpeted room a thousand different kinds of gold, everyone wrapped up in each other’s company, it seemed like hours before the slow song ended. 

Elsa’s and Kristoff’s hands came to a halt on their instruments. 

“Hey, Anna, I just realized something,” Olaf said excitedly.

“Yeah?”

“You  _ don’t _ just have me. You have all these guys too!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

Mattias and Yelana actually managed small smiles at each other. Ryder put his hand on Kristoff’s shoulder, Honeymaren on Elsa’s, and both Kristoff and Elsa took one of Anna’s hands, squeezing gently. Iduna’s and Agnarr’s painted smiles seemed to be directed down at all the people around her.

Sven snorted loudly.

_ “Oh, can we have another song?” _ Kristof translated.  _ “We should enjoy this time as much as possible.” _

“Oh, Sven.” Elsa beamed at Kristoff. “We absolutely can, and we will.”

Their hands squeezed Anna’s one more time, before setting back on their instruments. Bruni curled up on Olaf’s head and chirped, Gale whistled with contentment, and, on the balcony, Anna could swear she saw the watery shape of the Nøkk standing there, bowing his head in appreciation.

Anna jumped up on the piano, right in between the two of them, right in the middle of everyone, her heart warm with love. This time, the two of them started playing a happy, upbeat melody, the three Northuldra swiftly matching pitch, their voices equally exuberant, and when Anna sang, her family sang along with her. 

As the snow fell, as the dark and the cold lay over Arendelle once again, to its new queen, the winter had never seemed brighter...or more beautiful. 


End file.
